The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes, the yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes licked its tongue into the corners of the evening, lingered upon the pools that stand in drains, let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys, slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap, and seeing that it was a soft october night, curled once about the house, and fell asleep. based on the excerpt, how does the narrator feel about the evening fog? he believes it is stealthy and all-encompassing. he believes it is intrusive and deceitful. he believes it is soft and beautiful. he believes it is powerful and overwhelming.